


Harvesting Moon

by WolfAndHound_Archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Romance, Second War with Voldemort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2016-01-19
Packaged: 2018-05-14 23:41:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5763382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfAndHound_Archivist/pseuds/WolfAndHound_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Death is just the beginning, and though we never forget we can change our perspectives...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Harvesting Moon

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Lassenia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Wolf and Hound](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Wolf_and_Hound), which was created to make stories posted to the Sirius_Black_and_Remus_Lupin Yahoo! mailing list easier to find. However, even though I still love the fandom, I am no longer active in it and do not have the time to maintain it. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in December 2015. I posted an announcement with Open Doors, but we may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on the [Wolf and Hound collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/wolfandhound/profile).

The moon was full, and for the first time since he was boy Remus looked upon it with the eyes of a man not fearing its consequences. It hung in the sky, luminous and round, and bathed his face in russet and amber. If he stared hard enough, he could see the outline of laughing eyes in its craters and valleys, and the banner of flowing hair in the misty clouds that tried to block its edges from his view.

His fingers clenched in the dirt, fallen petals crushed fragile and fragrant beneath them. He hummed, a slow, almost-forgotten tune from his childhood that echoed in his head. The scent of the night was thick in his throat, and he supposed that some things would never change. Couldn't change. Even when everything else did.

His mind replayed the day's events over and over, an endless loop that soothed rather than threatened him with madness. Strange, really. Of all things to feel so **calm** about, surely Harry's death should not be one of them? But there you have it, another impossible riddle to ponder with the dawn. Or was that Riddle?

He snickered to himself, the awful pun drawing him from his thoughts for a moment. Well, that puzzle had proved not so difficult after all, his candle snuffed as it should have been long ago. A final end come to the man who was just another name around here, another file to be closed. And, really, the same could be said for Harry, the Boy-Who-Lived-Too-Long now gone to his rest.

Of course, there was nothing restful about it, at least not for him. The paperwork alone kept him up most nights, and **him** a teacher long used to endless marking and correction. But he supposed his partner could accept at least half the blame, between his ill-timed... distractions, and his utter inability to sit still for even the token amount of time required for an expense report.

"You know, Moony, it **will** be full again next month."

He smiled, extending his hand in silent invitation, gaze never wavering from the sky. Sirius took his hand, and amidst grumbling about 'these damn cherry blossoms' settled himself on the ground, one arm bent under his head as his fingers played with Remus'.

"I'm sorry about Harry," he whispered. Sirius' fingers tightened on his, and he heard the catch in his breathing before he replied.

"Nothing to be sorry for. It was his time." The grief was muted, but no less real. Even the Veil couldn't sever all ties, especially those woven in the heart, and the necessity of their jobs didn't lessen the price they often exacted.

Remus tore his eyes away from the moon, rising on one elbow to press their lips together. A part of him longed to break the kiss, to return to his contemplation of the harvest moon, but the strong arms pulling him closer decided the matter. This night was for Moony and Padfoot, and the moon could wait.

After all, he had an eternity.

## End ##


End file.
